


Answered Prayers

by carolinecrane



Series: Devotion [7]
Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 22:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolinecrane/pseuds/carolinecrane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dite gives Ares the right kind of shove in a certain direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Answered Prayers

As it turned out all of Aphrodite’s plotting was a waste of time, because in the end Ares came to her on his own. He didn’t come looking for advice or to tell her she was right; that was far more than she could hope for, and anyway if Ares ever admitted he was wrong it probably would have unbalanced the forces of nature or something. When he did make an appearance in her temple it was mostly to skulk around looking moody, mumbling some lame excuse about not being able to find Strife. Considering the way Ares had been acting lately she was pretty sure Strife was in hiding, but if he was going to hide from Ares he wouldn’t do it in the first place Ares was bound to look.

She wasn’t about to point that out to him, though, because the last thing she wanted him to do was leave. So instead of mentioning that Strife was probably as far from Olympus as he could get she just waved distractedly in the direction of her guest rooms. “Maybe he’s with Joxer. They’ve been spending a lot of time together lately.”

“He’s still here?”

Aphrodite let out the most put-upon sigh she could manage while she was trying not to smile. “Of course he’s still here, bro. What’d you think, I’d just toss him out the first chance I got? Poor Joxie, it’s going to take a long time to mend his broken heart. You know he’s feeling guilty about his father now too.”

“What? Why?”

“He wasn’t really expecting you to show up and kill the guy, Ares. Personally I think he was just looking for a way to get himself killed. Seeing as he thinks the love of his life is wandering around down in Tartarus somewhere. He’s dropped a few hints about Hades already. What am I supposed to tell him?”

“Tell him to get over it and send him back to Xena.”

She rolled her eyes and planted her hands firmly on her hips, finally looking up from the scrolls she’d been pretending to work on. “I’m not going to send him back there just so he can try to kill himself some more. Who’s going to save him next time? One of the Hero Brigade? If you’d just go talk to him…”

“No.”

“Look, I’m not asking you to spill all your deep, dark secrets. Just go make him feel a little better about his dad. Tell him the old goat had it coming or something. I don’t care what you tell him, just make him stop beating himself up about getting the guy killed.” Ares sighed and she could see his resolve faltering a little. She almost hated to do it, but she knew the best way to push him those last few steps over the edge. “Fine, if you want to pout and mope around like something that crawled out of Tartarus go do it somewhere else. I’ll get Strife to talk to Joxie, they seem to have a lot in common.”

“He wouldn’t…Cupid would kill him.”

“Geez, bro, I didn’t say they were getting it on. Although if it did come to that Cupid would understand. He knows all about how comfort sex works.”

It had always amused her that whenever Ares got really mad the vein in his forehead would throb just the way a human’s would, but it had never been quite as endearing as it was when Ares was jealous. She could see him struggling not to lose his temper, and she knew the only reason he cared was because he didn’t want her to know how much the thought of Joxer moving on bothered him. The fact that he still thought after all these years that he could pull anything over on Love…she shook her head and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Fine, if it’s that important to you I’ll check if he’s here.” She bit her lip and pretended to concentrate for a few seconds before shaking her head and trying her best to look serious. “Nope, Joxie’s out in the garden all by his lonesome. Poor guy, I can feel the heartbreak from here. If you see Strife send him over, would ya? And here I never thought I’d have a use for Mischief.”

Ares’ dark eyes narrowed momentarily, and she had to struggle not to laugh at the expression she knew was supposed to make mortals quake with fear. She was probably going to catch hell from Cupid and Strife once Ares got done with their nephew, but it would be worth it if she could make her brother jealous enough to take that first step. She was positive if he just talked to Joxer the whole truth would come tumbling out eventually; nobody could be around someone as miserable as Joxer and not want to do anything just to take the pain away.

For a second she thought he might argue with her some more, but a moment later he let out a growl and disappeared. She blinked at the spot where he’d been standing, ignoring the rude departure in favor of searching her temple for his signature. When she felt a shield go up in her garden she smiled to herself and settled back down at her table, picking up the scroll she’d abandoned when Ares showed up and humming to herself as she got back to work.

~

Ares was almost positive that Aphrodite had been lying about Strife and Joxer. Granted he hadn’t seen much of his nephew recently, but he knew how attached he and Cupid were to each other. So there was no way Strife was doing the House of Love’s dirty work for them. Comfort sex…the thought made him shudder in a very ungodly way, and he stopped just inside the garden to collect himself before he searched for Joxer.

He wasn’t even sure what he was doing out there, it wasn’t like he had a speech planned or anything. He didn’t know how he was supposed to explain why he’d killed Joxer’s father without making him feel worse, or at least making him think that Ares was some kind of monster. Not that he’d really killed Joxer’s father; he’d left that to Strife, but technically he’d given the order so that made him responsible. How did you explain to someone why you’d had their father killed? He didn’t have experience at this kind of thing, and he certainly wasn’t used to having to explain his behavior to mortals. He was War, and that was usually enough of a reason for anyone.

He was still contemplating his sudden need to justify his behavior to Joxer when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye, tensing instantly as he watched the mortal wander into view. He hadn’t spotted Ares yet, and considering that his eyes were trained on the ground in front of him Ares had a feeling he might not notice if an entire band of warlords rode through the garden. For a long moment he stood as still as possible and watched Joxer, the movements of the man’s shoulders and legs as he walked so familiar that Ares ached to reach out and touch him. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world, to cross the garden and pull Joxer into his arms. Part of him could almost believe that that was all it would take, that he wouldn’t need any other explanation. Just a touch and Joxer would know, and everything would be the way it should have been all these years.

It was an irrational hope, but he couldn’t help wishing that it could be that simple. If he thought he could get away with turning back time without creating a major incident on Olympus and Earth…but it wouldn’t do him any good because in the end Joxer still would have left home at sixteen, and Ares still wouldn’t have been able to go after a child and confess the truth. Not that he was really a child at that point, but he was close enough to one to stop Ares from trying to make him understand. The only thing he could do was try to keep him safe and make sure Joxer never found out the truth, and that was what he still had to do.

He didn’t realize Joxer had spotted him until the other man cleared his throat, and Ares flinched as he realized he’d been staring without seeing what was right in front of him. “Ares…I’m sorry, I didn’t realize…I can go if you want to be alone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ares answered, the gruffness of his tone making him flinch again. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and did his best to bring his voice down to a less-than-terrifying level. “I was looking for you.”

“Me?”

If he’d been anyone besides War, Ares wouldn’t have fought the urge to smile at the barely audible squeak. It should have hurt that Joxer was afraid of him, but instead he just found it endearing. It reminded him a little of that first awkward, sloppy kiss in the woods, and he felt something tug so sharply at his heart that part of him expected to see it pull right out of his chest.

“Who else would I be looking for? Unless you’ve seen that idiot nephew of mine.” He didn’t miss the dangerous tone that crept back into his voice, but at Joxer’s blank stare he found himself relaxing. “I came to see how you were doing.”

“How I’m…? Oh.” Realization dawned on Joxer’s face and his eyes clouded for a moment, but whatever emotion was troubling him he pushed roughly aside as soon as it surfaced. “I’ve wanted to thank you, but I’m not sure how traveling works up here and I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were busy with a war or something. I thought about asking Aphrodite but she seems so busy too, and anyway…I hope you’re not upset with me for waiting so long.”

It took a few seconds for Ares to sort out the stammered explanation, but at the end of it he came to the conclusion that Joxer was apologizing for not coming to him. He assumed one of his meddling family members had told Joxer that it was Ares who stopped his father’s man from literally squeezing the life out of him, that was the only explanation he could come up with for Joxer feeling like he owed Ares a debt of gratitude. "I'm not upset with you, Joxer."

Familiar brown eyes widened a little in surprise, as though Joxer hadn't really believed that Ares knew who he was talking to until he said his name. It was harder than he'd realized to see the obvious fear in Joxer's eyes, to know that this man that meant everything to him didn't even know who he was. He'd been so careful to ignore Joxer in the past, to pretend he wasn't even there the few times when Ares had had to face Xena while Joxer was with her. It hadn't been that hard while his daughter was there, because Xena was the last person he wanted to show weakness to. To find himself alone with Joxer for the first time in fifteen years, knowing that Joxer didn't even suspect that Ares knew him…it was harder than he'd ever imagined it would be.

He cleared his throat and looked away, swallowing hard against the strange urge to just pour out the entire story. He knew he could make Joxer listen, that even if Joxer didn't believe him he'd listen to the whole story. He'd have to, because he was at the mercy of the gods while he was on Olympus. And right now he was completely at Ares' mercy because of the shield he'd put up over Dite's garden, so there was nowhere for him to go until Ares was ready to let him.

But Ares had already harmed him enough for one lifetime, and he couldn't visit more pain on Joxer now because of his own selfish need to hold onto the past. He knew better than to let himself fall in love with a mortal, he'd seen the kind of damage it could do and he'd told himself years ago that it was over. And it was – he just had to make sure that Joxer wasn't going to do anything stupid like toss himself off a cliff or throw himself in front of the first available sword in some misguided effort to reunite himself with Timo.

"Dite tells me you blame yourself for your father's death. You realize how presumptuous it is to question the will of the gods, don't you?"

"Yes, well…I mean…but if it hadn't been for me…" Joxer stammered, his face growing an ever more alarming shade of red as he searched desperately for an end to his sentence. The whole time he was silently chanting a prayer that Ares could hear over and over in his head: _Don't kill me, please don't kill me…_ Ares stroked a hand over his beard to hide his smile, clearing his throat again in an effort not to laugh.

"So you don't wish to die after all."

Again those brown eyes grew wide with fear and disbelief, and it was all Ares could do not to reach out and stroke his fingers over pale skin. He knew he could, that he could ask anything of Joxer and it would be given to him. It wasn't as though War had to go around explaining his whims to mere mortals, but he didn't want Joxer that way. He never wanted Joxer to give himself to anyone in anything other than an act of free will, least of all to sacrifice himself for the pleasure of a fickle god.

"How did you…?"

"You're dedicated to me, I hear your prayers." The answer was simple and close enough to the truth for Joxer to accept it, his cheeks flushing again as he nodded. "As for your father, he was a disloyal servant of War and he was dealt with accordingly. The timing was…merely convenient."

The skeptical look returned at that, but he didn't say anything and Ares wasn't willing to peek into his thoughts uninvited. He told himself it wasn't fair to read Joxer's mind when he already had him at a disadvantage, but if he'd been honest with himself he would have had to admit that part of him didn't want to know what Joxer really thought of him. He was terrified to find out that Joxer's fear and distrust of him was more than the result of listening to Xena over the years, he didn't know what it would do to him to have concrete proof that Joxer held him in the same disdain as his own daughter.

"Thank you, Ares," Joxer said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the garden. "For saving my life."

"And yet you wouldn't have had it saved," Ares finished for him, pursing his lips in an effort to hold back his anger at the thought of Joxer throwing his life away. "What could be so horrible that you'd throw your life away on someone like your father?"

"He cost me something…something I can never replace," Joxer answered without missing a beat. The fear in his eyes was gone again, replaced by a longing so palpable that Ares was sure he could reach out and touch it if he dared.

"You would die for a possession?"

"Not for a thing. For love."

His expression was so earnest, so brave and unwavering that Ares wasn't sure whether to laugh or pull him close or just shake him until his brain rattled so hard in his skull that he forgot all about his quest to get himself killed over a memory. The situation seemed suddenly so unfair, so miserably hopeless that he wished he hadn't come to find Joxer. He wished he'd left him to his death wish, or to Strife if his nephew really wanted him. Anything would be better than this, to have Joxer stand in front of him and say with conviction that he'd rather die than live without a boy who had never even existed.

"You'd die for love. So tell me, Joxer the Mighty, who is this great love that you'd spend eternity searching through Tartarus for rather than living out your mortal life?"

"You might remember him," Joxer answered, and the look in his eyes made Ares' breath catch in his throat. For just a second he was almost sure that Joxer knew, that he'd guessed Ares' secret and he was just waiting for the right moment to let him know. It was impossible, though – unless Dite had told him there was no way he could know. "Aphrodite says he used to work in one of your temples. An orphan named Timo, he served in your temple not far from my father's house."

Ares nodded slowly, not trusting his voice not to betray him. He'd been almost sure that Joxer was about to tell him that he knew, and Ares could stop pretending and get out of his sight. "I remember," he said when he thought he could talk again without choking on the words. "He was a faithful servant."

"He was the best friend anyone could ask for. He didn't deserve…" Joxer's voice broke and he trailed off, biting his lip and looking away from Ares. The only thing that betrayed the sudden rush of emotions was an almost imperceptible shaking of his shoulders, but it was enough to make Ares want to go to him and hold him until Joxer forgot what he'd lost. That could never happen, though, so he held his ground and crossed his arms a little more tightly over his chest.

"What does a murdered servant have to do with your father?"

"I was young when we met. Ten years old, right outside your temple. We met for years in secret, but finally even my father noticed that I was sneaking away more often than I could account for. He had my brother follow me and he saw us together. He said he'd kill Timo unless I stopped seeing him. He beat me so badly that I couldn't walk for days, but as soon as I could stand on my own I left. I thought it would keep him safe, but now I know that I cost him his life anyway."

Ares didn't realize he was shaking his head until Joxer stopped talking and stared at him, curiosity shining clear in his eyes. He had to be wondering why Ares was so interested in a mortal's first love, and he looked a little embarrassed at having spilled the whole story in one rush of breath. All Ares could focus on was the idea of Joxer beaten so badly that he could barely move, and still somehow finding the strength to leave that note. All these years he'd been so wrong; he'd told himself not going after Joxer was the right thing to do, and now he knew that he'd been lying to himself all along. "It wasn't your fault," Ares said softly. "He was killed by thieves. It had nothing to do with you."

"How do you know?" Joxer asked, his voice tight with pain as he clung to the shred of hope that Ares was offering him.

Ares had instigated hundreds of thousands of battles over the course of his godhood; he'd seen men die by his hand and at the hands of his followers. He'd seen needless death and death that served the greater good of Greece as a whole, and he'd lost countless loyal warlords and see the deaths of countless innocents. In all that time he'd always known that he was doing his job, that the grief was justified because in the end it would make Greece a stronger nation. And in all that time he'd never let himself feel any of those losses. The only loss he'd ever felt in his heart was the loss of a sixteen-year-old boy that had loved him without knowing who he was or any of the things he could offer, and maybe that was why he'd never stopped feeling it once he started.

"Joxer, I…" He froze for a moment, paralyzed with the need to tell Joxer the truth. It would be so easy to just say it, even if he had to close his eyes to get it all out. He wouldn't even have to say much, just a simple 'it was me'. 'It was me, I'm him. I'm Timo,' just like that and it would all be out in the open. There would be explanations, of course, maybe some tears and some blame. But in the end maybe…he shook his head to chase the thought away, telling himself he couldn't be that selfish. He couldn't make Joxer suffer more by shattering the memory of what they'd had, taking away all Joxer had left of the boy he'd loved. "I have to go, I have some business to attend to," he finally said.

"Of course," Joxer answered automatically, but the disappointment and confusion in his eyes stung Ares as surely as if he'd slapped him. He knew Joxer had been hoping for an answer to the question, an explanation that would at least assuage a little of the guilt he felt. But Ares couldn't give him that, he couldn't give him anything anymore except the peace of finally putting his past behind him.

"It had nothing to do with you," he heard himself repeat. He didn't even realize he'd moved until he stopped in front of Joxer, reaching out before he could talk himself out of it and curling the fingers of one strong hand around the smaller man's cheek. He let his thumb rub absently at the warm skin stretched over his cheekbone, nostalgia washing over him in a wave so strong that he had to pull his hand back before he lost his mind and did something else he'd regret. "We'll speak again."

He flashed out of the garden without waiting for an answer, dropping the shield as he went. He reappeared in his own throne room, nearly collapsing into his throne to stare down at his hands. They were shaking so hard he wondered idly if they'd shake right off; he'd never seen his hands do anything so strange, he'd never heard of any god having such a human reaction to emotion. But his hands were still shaking, no matter how hard he focused on trying to make them stop. Finally he slumped back into his throne and buried his head in his hands, willing the memory of Joxer out of his mind.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't erase the image of those dark eyes staring up at him with such a mixture of fear, awe and hope, and somehow an older, far dearer memory of much younger eyes full of love got mixed in. After awhile he found that he couldn't separate the Joxer he'd spoken to in his sister's garden from the child he'd watched grow into a man, so he gave up trying and just let all the memories wash over him. He had no idea how much time passed before he pulled his hands away from his face, frowning down at his palms as if seeing them for the first time. They'd stopped shaking but they were wet now, and when he reached up and touched his face he realized that it was streaked with tears.


End file.
